


Sleep

by BrandiChampane



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandiChampane/pseuds/BrandiChampane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Your character suffer from sleep deprivation. How does this affect them, their work, etc?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

Will uses coffee like a life support. Ever since he started hearing noises, the nightmares have gotten worse, more vivid. He will lay away in his small house unsure of what is real or what his mind has manifested. When his eyes do drift to a close, it’s as if he’s trapped in a parallel universe. The stag always follows and he can feel it’s breath on the nape of his neck making him shiver.  
They are on a case today. Multiple victims, a trail Will thinks. Like breadcrumbs from Hansel and Gretel, each body just drags them further into the woods. When they get to the end, the final body is hanging from a tree in the same fashion witches were hung in the late sixteen hundreds. Will shudders, this killer has a vendetta. He thinks they won’t strike again, this was their final masterpiece.  
Jack returns to the previous bodies to investigate. Hannibal lingers in the background, giving will space. He seems particularly interested in a (what seems to be) weed, mumbles something about it balancing a meal well. Will doesn’t hear, he’s too focused on the body hanging before him. The woman’s neck hangs loose and there is a wound on her chest. Will notes that she was killed first then set on display.  
Will steps back to investigate the scene, take in the details before he closes his eyes to live it. He feels himself drag the bodies. Holds a needle and thread and connects them together. Each victim a mother, he has found the motive. The sound of howling reverberates from the trees. Will turns to face the stag, stunned stiff. He backs into a figure, solid. Hobb’s cold eyes lock him into place and trap him. Will can feel his heart pulsing in his throat and he can’t swallow it down. He’s choking now, unstable and falling to the ground.  
Solid hands have gripped his shoulders and he’s back to reality. Hannibal’s eyes are scanning his face, asking if he is okay. Will inhales, notes he can breathe again, exhales. He coughs, stutters an I’m fine, thanks before turning to leave the scene. 

Back at his little house, Will’s dogs have gathered in the dining room. They watch as he sits, hands heated by a fresh cup of coffee, and talks to the wind. Abigail is with him again but she is quiet. He tries to ask how she is, but there is no response. She is just smiling and enjoying the company Will assumes.  
A knock at the door gets the attention of the dogs but Will focuses on his company. There is a shuffle in the living room and a light turns on. Will turns to see the stag walking into the kitchen. When he turns back to Abigail, she’s gone and Hannibal has replaced her. Hannibal opens a container and prepares a dish for Will. Disoriented, Will looks around the room and realizes he was hallucinating again.  
“You’ve ignored your phone again Will,” Hannibal says, sliding a plate and fork towards him.  
Will stares at the plate, “Seems I have.”  
“Are you getting much sleep?”  
“No, the uh. The nightmares are worse,” he sips his coffee.  
“More vivid?”  
“Not just vivid, it all feels real. I can feel myself slicing at victims,” he places his shaking palms on the table. “I can feel myself as the victims,” he rushes out the end.  
Hannibal nods. It’s quiet a moment as Will tries to catch his breath.  
“Have you considered taking a break from work?”  
Will breathes out a laugh. He remembers telling Jack that he needed one. “I’m needed,” he whispers.  
Hannibal eyes the mug between Will’s shaking fingers. He grabs it, pours it in the sink and exchanges it for a glass of water.  
“You need sleep, Will.” Then he packs up the leftovers and places them in the fridge. Will mumbles something that causes him to turn at the door. “Yes, Will?”  
“I don’t want to be alone,’ he wipes his palms on his jeans and concentrates on them. He shuts his eyes, betrayed by his own emotions. “It would be comforting having someone here,” he adds.  
Hannibal hides a smile and nods. “If it will help.”

As Will does his night routine Hannibal waits in his room. He takes in scenery, bed hardly used, empty coffee cups lining the shelves, clothes in disarray. Will apologizes for the mess as he tosses empty Starbucks cups in the trash. The sun has set and he can feel sleep weighing heavy on him. That’s when the anxiety sets in. He remembers Hannibal telling him that he can’t anticipate his dreams before his eyes finally close.  
Will is in his yard staring at his dogs. They are tied together like daisy chains around him, dead. He can still hear their screams and barks echoing in the night sky. His heart races because this is his family and now it’s gone. All of them just gone. Abigail pets the stag and smirks, mentions that they are his family now. He’s drowning now, choking on bile before he snaps awake.  
Hannibal helps him out of his shirt and tosses him a fresh one. He doesn’t whisper calming words, instead climbs into bed beside Will and runs his fingers through his hair. His fingers whisper it’s okay as he rubs small circles in his back. If the knot in his throat wasn’t releasing he might have pushed him away, but he needs this, needs someone. He shuts his eyes and only drifts back to sleep after he feels Hannibal press a soft kiss into his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if I'll continue this yet.


End file.
